


Backseat Drivers

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Car Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long car trips are only made worse by having your teammates making out in the back seat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat Drivers

Hot breath. Warm hands. Shirt coming _mostly_ off, belt _definitely_ undone, lips on neck, _teeth_ on neck, “Hey, _watch_ it, watch the teeth, I'm not a goddamn ham sandwich.”

And Roman's voice from somewhere in front of them, “I will turn this car around, I swear to god, I don't know why I ever agree to be the driver when we're going places.”

“Because you love us.” Seth's voice is muffled—probably because his face is still pressed against the side of Dean's neck. “And you want us to be healthy and happy and sexually satisfied, and sometimes that means fucking in the back seat of your car.”

“What he said.” Dean pauses and thinks about it. “Also I gotta point out that it's a five hour drive, I need to do _something._ ”

“Then play Crash Bandicoot, I thought you brought your DS.”

“Too late, my hand's already in his pants.”

“I hate you both.”

Seth, now sounding slightly breathless, says, “If you hated us you'd have stopped the car really suddenly five minutes ago.”

“What the fuck, Seth, don't give him ideas.”

“He's not suggesting anything I hadn't already considered. Don't stain the upholstery.”

 

_Five minutes later_

 

Roman stares fixedly forward at the road and gives serious consideration to stomping on the brakes.

“Hey, Rome, do we have any lube in here?”

He sighs. “No, Seth. I don't have lube anywhere easy to access.”

“That seems like poor planning.”

“You two seem to be doing just fine without it.”

Seth starts to say something, cuts off with a garbled sound, and then continues, raggedly, with, “Yeah, but we'd be doing way better if we had some.”

“Maybe that'll teach you not to get it on in the back seat of my car.” Roman's pleased to see from the rear-view mirror that they're too occupied to see the smile he can't quite suppress. “Gonna give yourselves hernias or something.”

“The day I give myself a hernia from fucking,” says Dean's voice from somewhere in the region of the driver's-side footwell, “is the day I'm officially too goddamn old to be doing anything anymore.”

 

_Five minutes after that_

 

There aren't really words happening in the back seat at this point, but there are _sounds,_ which means that Dean and Seth are both too occupied to hear Roman mutter, “ _Damn,_ that smells good.”

 

_Five minutes after **that**_

 

The car stops abruptly.

Dean and Seth fall all over each other. It would be undignified if either of them ever still tried to insist to Roman that they had any dignity. But Dean _does_ still say, “What the _fuck_ was that for, I almost dislocated my _jaw._ ”

“Pit stop. Back in a second.”

Roman gets out of the car and Seth blinks. “Well, that was weird.”

A minute later he's back and pulling open the rear door and Dean says, “Whoa, whoa, we're not exactly decent here.”

“I know, get out of the car, I only paid for an hour.”

“You only paid for...” Seth glances out the window and blinks. “We're definitely outside a sketchy motel.”

“I know, get your ass out of the car.”


End file.
